Looming Woes
by KomodoQueen
Summary: Some missions are just too damn difficult... even for Steven J McGarrett. Another 'fluff' one-shot. Plot? What plot? Enjoy!


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not even the virtual paper it's written on.

_Authors Note: Again, heartfelt thanks to the relentless TheDogo. The woman is beyond pushy, but that's one of the reasons I love her (not to mention her proofing skillz!). Thanks chickadee, mwah!_

* * *

He had been shut away in his office for three hours now. Danny had seen him through the glass as he read and re-read the paperwork; making notes and drawing little diagrams on the jotter on his desk. The man hadn't even looked up at his knock on the door. Headphones rammed tightly into his ears while he watched the video, his hands repetitively performing the required action in the air above the desk.

"Steve," Danny called. Again no response. The man was completely engrossed in his task.

"Steven!" The near-shout finally got his attention, snapping him back to reality. "Are you done? I'm leaving in five 'cause I gotta stop for milk before the store shuts."

"Let's go then." The SEAL was on his feet in seconds, almost charging round the desk in his haste. Snatching the keys from where they hung on his partner's finger, he headed for the exit.

"Whoa, Army-boy! What's the hurry?" Danny chuffed, turning on his heel to jog after his friend.

"For the hundredth time, it's the Navy, Danny," Steve called over his shoulder as he broke into a half-jog. "If we run, we can make it to the little dollar store."

Sighing in exasperation at his partner's decision, Danny shut off the lights and closed the office doors before following the man out to the parking lot.

By the time Danny emerged from the building, Steve had the sleek black car running and the passenger door open. Leaning across the center console to stare out of the passenger side, Steve beckoned his 2IC to hurry.

"C'mon Danny. The shop'll be shut if you don't get a move on."

"Hey!" Danny pulled his door closed as the car moved off. "If you're gonna drive my car like a lunatic, could you at least wait until I've got a belt on? I have a daughter I plan on seeing later, thank you very much!" Steve just shrugged and gave him one of those lopsided grins he used when he was excited about something. The man was a child.

Clicking his belt home and grabbing at what he had nicknamed the 'oh shit!' handle, Danny continued "What the hell is so darned important about that particular dollar store that you have to try and kill me to get there anyway?"

"I'm not trying to kill you, Danny. Stop exaggerating." Steve looked over at his partner, a grin spreading across his face as he drove – a little too fast – to the store.

Sucking in a breath and almost climbing up the passenger door as a car horn indicated the drift towards the center line, Danny slapped his partner's shoulder with his left hand before pointing dramatically through the windshield.

"Steven! Keep your eyes on the road ahead before you put us both in the hospital or kill some poor unsuspecting motorist. How in the hell did you ever get your license? Do you even check your mirrors? Huh? No! Of course you don't. You don't ever need to check _your _mirrors because you're always driving _my _car!" Having let go of the handle, Danny's right hand joined his left to wave in emphasis.

"You know for someone who wants me to drive safely, all _this__,"_Steve raised his right hand from the wheel and painted large circles in the air with his hand, "is really quite distracting."

"Ugh. You're an animal," Danny spat, hands dropping into his lap, the corners of his mouth creeping into a small smile of his own.

H50

An hour later, Danny sat with tears streaming down his face. He knew he had to tell Chin and Kono, but he was more worried about telling his daughter. He had no idea what to say. Or how to say it. He wasn't sure he could school his features and bite back his emotions long enough to even get the words out. He had to think fast – he was due to collect her in half an hour.

Danny had watched as McGarrett studied the shelves in the little store. There was entirely too much stuff in too small a space and Danny didn't doubt the fire department would have a few choice words for the owner if they ever did an inspection. The shop sold pretty much everything. From cleaning products and basic groceries, to laundry powder and jumpers. Children's toys adorned the entire back wall – including the restocked NERF gun display the teammates had cleared out several weeks ago – and there was a complete row dedicated to mason jars, knitting needles and wool. Danny found that a little odd. Unless there was some sort of jam-and-scarf making group that met nearby, he didn't have a clue why they needed so much of it.

The store owner had already pulled the shutters half-way down by the time Steve had chosen his items. McGarrett had spent a good ten minutes rummaging through the display, choosing and then changing his mind until he finally found exactly what he was looking for. Smiling at the obvious excitement of the taller man, the owner had rung up his purchases and accepted the proffered cash. "Have fun," his parting comment as he ushered the pair out under the barricade, chuckling to himself at the indecision of the dark-haired man.

Steve had all but ignored Danny the moment they had arrived at the McGarrett residence. Opening the front door he had rushed inside, setting his purchases down on the dining table alongside his tablet. Danny had stowed his milk in Steve's fridge and grabbed a couple of drinks before heading to the table to watch. He wasn't due to collect his daughter from cheerleading practice for another hour and a half and decided this was too good an opportunity to miss. And he hadn't. Missed. He had the whole thing on tape.

Steve had barely noticed him as he entered the room. Hadn't acknowledged the drink placed in front of him on the table until he realized it was in his way. He had laid out his purchases with military precision. Each item perfectly arranged and ordered to complete the task at hand. His instruction notes were laid out in order and the plastic contraption sat between his hands.

Picking up the tool, he had tried to construct the first section of his project. Realizing quickly that using the hook was far too time consuming, he had opted to do the first lay-out by hand. It was only after he picked up the hook to commence the second part of the project that he realized he had constructed the thing backwards. Ripping off all the bands, Steve reconfigured his neatly organized workstation and started over.

Danny had watched as his partner strung and restrung the plastic. Chuckled at his apparent inability to remember to turn the whole thing the other way up before beginning part two. He had watched, mesmerized, as the man who could MacGyver his way out of a collapsed building struggled with the simple task. He laughed. He laughed so hard tears fell. When his partner scolded him for his mocking, he laughed harder. His belly hurt and his face ached, but he couldn't stop. It was truly the funniest thing he had ever watched. And he had it all on tape. Every curse. Every snap of every broken band. All of it.

Wiping his eyes and shutting off the video on his phone, the blonde detective reached for a handful of the little bands and without even really looking at what he was doing, worked them across his fingers as his poor, exasperated friend continued to struggle.

Steve was frustrated. He could field strip and reassemble his SIG in under 10 seconds, but he couldn't loom-band for toffee; a fact his partner was _not_ going to let go. The fact that Danny had sat there, grinning to himself and made a fishtail one with just his fingers, irked Steve to no end. Grace had made it all sound so easy and he had really wanted to surprise her.

"Here you go, not-so-Super SEAL," Danny snorted, lobbing the completed bracelet in his partner's direction. Steve just glared at him. "I think it'll suit you…I still can't believe they make these things in camo colours!" he said as he dissolved in hysterical laughter on the other side of the table.


End file.
